Knights of Intrigue
by Blue-Inked Frost
Summary: A year after the defeat of old evils, a new adventure starts. Rebellion bursts into open flame in the First Dimension, the vampires of Londres rise again, and a Knight is kidnapped to the Fourth Dimension. Cowritten with Lightning Flash. Some OCs.
1. Letters Home

**Disclaimer**: Own nothing, make no profit. This work of fanfiction is cowritten by **Lightning Flash **and **Sarah Frost** who, aside from the pretty pattern of words and a few OCs that we're not particularly interested in copyrighting, own no characters or situations presented in this fanfic.

**A/N: **This is AU. What is AU about this, is that we are assuming "Sixth Dimension and other associated dimensions real, complicated places", and "Lord Fear was actually competent and had a Cause". **LightningFlash** actually has a Cool Weird Theory regarding the former proviso and if asked nicely will probably talk about it.

In this chapter, the famous writer Mark Twain is quoted; we make no attempt to claim his genius as our own.

**PROLOGUE**

_A long, long time ago, in a dimension far away (and no, we don't own Star Wars, either)…_

_…there was a war, over the possession over a powerful magical artefact, known as the Amulet of Zoar, that would give a skilled user the ability to dominate the entire Sixth Dimension._

…_For many years, the amulet had remained secure in the hands of its guardians, the Lightning Knights, keepers of peace. Until an undead sorcerer rose again, gaining power, and the amulet was shattered._

…_In the parallel quests of the Lightning Knights and the sorcerer's followers to find the pieces off the amulet before any other could, both sides were transported to another dimension, where their battle was played out._

_...There's a long story attached to that, tales of war and hatred and fights and betrayal, but you would know the gist of that._

…_Suffice it to say…ultimately it was the Knights who were victorious, after one of the sorcerer's servants chose to betray her master for love, and for a time the Sixth Dimension was saved._

In the end, there are four of them, trudging up the path to the tower, through the dark-coloured mud left by the rain, and they all look the worse for wear; a red-haired woman with a black smudge across her cheek, a man half-machine mounted on a squeaking wheel, and two figures leaning against each other as much for support as affection, a green-skinned woman wearing an oversized jacket over something red and tattered, and a blond man with a red-stained cloth around his left leg.

Another man, older than any of the four, comes out to meet them, moving with the grace of one well-trained in unarmed combat, and raises an arm in salute. He nods.

"Nice to have you back, Knights," he says.

Sparx reaches into her pocket, and throws him something golden and glittering. The Lightning Knight called Portius pockets it, and grins at her.

"Good for you, lass. Knew you'd come through."

He fixes a steely gaze on the blond man and the dark-haired woman, still standing together.

"Out of uniform, I see. And as for you, young _woman_, I'm placing you under arrest."

"Commander, I can vouch for her—" Ace begins, tightening his grasp on her in a protective gesture.

She speaks for herself, meeting Portius' eyes and speaking in an even tone.

"By all means, arrest me. I recall the last time I found escape less than challenging."

He stares at her for a long moment, then breaks into harsh laughter.

"No sense waiting around out here. Better come in."

The Knights receive two weeks of time off, with nothing better to do than to wait for their wounds to heal.

The days are long then, and sunny; time stretching out for them, and nothing to do but to rest and recover.

After the first couple of days, Sparx finds herself bored, and spends time with Random playing chess. She wins a surprising number of games. Ace and Lady Illusion appear to enjoy the chance to spend time together, though she takes care to stay out of the way of the other Knights. They're in love, and for the first time they have the chance to be together without obstacle, lying in the sun together wrapped in each other's arms.

Towards the end of the two weeks, he finds her running several computer searches on the Knights' database. She tells him that she's planning to go to the Third Dimension, where there are some opportunities for the talented mercenary. She says she'll write, and one day she simply disappears.

He's not worried for her; he's on duty again and that gives him enough to worry about, and a few weeks later a letter does arrive, with a return address included. Sparx is excited to launch on another adventure, and Random joins her after extensive therapy at the hands of the Knights' most trusted medics. Ace notices they both seem calmer and more contented, and he's happy for his friends.

One year later, a new adventure begins…

**CHAPTER 1: LETTERS HOME**

There were four letters home, written sometime in the long warm days of rest and recover, before the new adventure could even be considered, and two received replies.

_Adair and Jane Granger,_

_8 Kings Terrace,_

_Meridian,_

_The Sixth Dimension_

_Dear Father and Mother,_

_As the adventurer von Wittenberg once said, rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated! I just had to…travel for a while, out of reach for the most part. It's a long story, and I'm not sure you want to know the full details, but our world is safe, for now. I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that at least. My friends are also safe, and we're nearly recovered now. We'll be back on active duty in four days' time. The rest has been good although I'm looking forward to getting back to work again. Hopefully nothing too stressful will come up soon, we've had enough of that to last us a lifetime! And I've met this girl. This _woman_. Her name's Elspeth.I don't think you'd approve, but she's really very nice once you get to know her and she's saved my life several times over. I've never met anyone like her before. And tell Buzz that yes, she is female. Most of the time. (Joke!) I got his last letter, and I don't think I agree with the principle that a different girl every week is a proof of masculinity._

_The weather's lovely over here, it's spring this side of the dimension and though we've had a few showers it's still nice and warm. How is Meridian? It's autumn, right? I always loved that season, the leaves look so dazzling. I remember Mother always getting irritated at Buzz and myself jumping into piles of dry leaves for the crackling sound._

_I hope the business merger you referred to in your last letter went well, and that both of you are well and happy. Say hello to Buzz for me._

_Love,_

_Ace._

This one received a reply, after a week or so, and the addressee read it alone, one morning after breakfast.

_Ace Lightning_

_Box 320_

_Lightning Knight Headquarters_

_The Thunder Tower_

_The Sixth Dimension_

_Son,_

_It's good to know you're alive. In future, your mother and I would appreciate your directing further communications to Box 21, Meridian City Centre. As you know, our great city is very proud of our human heritage. You're sure your people do not give out your true surname?_

_About this woman, we advise you to be careful; those kind of people are frequently not to be trusted. Of course we trust you, but you know they say powers are dangerous. Your brother is presently seeing Miss Elizabeth Charnwood; you remember her, don't you? The daughter of Thomas Charnwood, head of MetroCo? A most suitable young lady, in our opinion. We're hoping this may lead to an engagement._

_Regards,_

_Adair and Jane Granger._

He showed Elspeth the letter, later, and she laughed and said his parents were probably right before pulling him into another kiss.

- -

The second letter received no reply, at least partly because the writer made some efforts to hide her location.

_Dear Uncle,_

_From your previous missive I understand that some of the gossip concerning certain recent events has reached you by now. I don't plan to elaborate more than necessary, and by your standards I would never be able to justify several of my actions._

_It is true I turned traitor, and fought with the Lightning Knights at the final battle. I acted to save our dimension—and entirely incidentally my own neck—from the clutches of an insane sorcerer. Unfortunately, however, I'm presently unemployed and my reputation as a mercenary has suffered; if you hear of anyone who's hiring, feel free to recommend me._

_Please inform Lord Kaigoth Alain that this lowly halfbreed no longer considers herself engaged to him, though he really should have got the message before now. Should he wish to adventure a second duel, I'd appreciate it if you gently reminded him that I am not so willing to hold back as I was seven years ago. I may lack a powerful employer, but I am both willing and able to defend myself should it prove necessary._

_With all due respect, Uncle, considering your understandable wish to advance the family fortunes I believe my second cousin Eilian has expressed some interest in our new Clan-Lord._

_Regarding the particular rumour on the subject of the Mortalborn known as Ace Lightning that you wrote so lyrically about, I'm pleased to inform you that it is entirely founded on fact. We're in love. I'm sure you'll be happy for me. I believe_ _you used the phrase, "following in the footsteps of my worthless mother"?_

_I doubt I'll have the opportunity to write to you again; I therefore wish to express my sincere gratitude to you on behalf of both myself and my late mother. You willingly offered both of us a home following the death of my father, generously ignoring any claims of hers to your father's legacy. No doubt it was due to your patient care that she lived only a few years upon returning to the Darkholt. I also must thank you for the opportunity you gave me to learn the arts of fighting and sorcery alongside your own offspring, my cousins Brendon and Kellamy; I am also grateful you did not choose to arbitrarily betroth me on the basis of my powers. Though I must certainly be excluded, I wish you and Lord Alain nothing but the highest success in your future political endeavours._

_Your obedient niece,_

_Elspeth Aranya, Lady Illusion._

The third letter, written nearly a year after the other three, after other letters by the same author had failed to receive answers, was also never replied to.

_Dear Sir,_

_If you refuse to read this, please pass it onto mother._

_The vampires are stirring up trouble, and I will be out of this dimension on a mission for an unknown amount of time._

_I write to you in the belief that these approaching battle will be my last. I have taken my place with the Knights, and am prepared to die for what is right. A brave Lightning Knight once told me that that is the greatest honour of all, no matter who you are. Perhaps he was right, even though he didn't believe it applied to the confused cyborg his son became. _

_I want to tell you, father, that the one thing you believed to be my greatest weakness has in fact become my greatest strength. I have conquered my darkness, and have become more powerful than even you could have hoped. But still you reject me. Why? The cause of your hatred is the one thing I would change in my life, I did not choose it. In some ways, it chose me. I have finally realised that I did not bring shame upon the family, and that if one of us has a reason to hate the other, then it is I. I choose not to hate you though, father. Hate is an un-Knightly virtue, and one I have finally purged myself of. Perhaps it is time for you to do the same._

_You can cast me off, Father, deny my very existence, and ignore my death, but it will never stop me from being, now and always,_

_Your son,_

**Random Virus.**

The fourth letter was replied to, but that reply has been lost.

_Dear father Remus,_

_Ace, Random Virus, and I are back from White Hot Oblivion. The inmates were rebelling, but we got the situation under control easily. It was even hotter than we expected, and we had to leave early because our supplies were low. We ran into some trouble on our journey through the Datastream, but we came out on top. The style of fighting you taught me has never let me down._

_How are you? I haven't seen you since I became a Knight. I wish I could have gone to mother's funeral, but I heard that the King was attending for publicity reasons. Ace and I go to Zalik's grave when we can, and I will make sure to visit mother's too. Zalik never told Ace that I was a princess, and Ace only knows that I'm a runaway you took in. I think it's better that he doesn't know the details. Is Reinhard dead yet? I haven't heard so, but I can hope. When he dies, the first thing I'm going to do is go to the Palace and see if my brother Ivory's still there._

_Oh, father Remus, I wish you could see me as a Knight, the sword you gave me lit up with lightning, flying into some battle. I know you disagree with my choice to fight, but my dimension deserves peace, just as you desire peace for yours._

_We have been having problems with the vampires, and my team, along with Portius', are being sent on another mission tomorrow. I will write to you when I return._

_Your faithful daughter,_

Sparx.

**In the Mess Room at the Thunder Tower, some time later…**

Sparx picked at the food on her plate while she flicked through a tabloid trash magazine, reading about the latest scandal at the palace.

"I don't know why you read those." Ace planted his tray on the table and took the seat opposite her.

"I like to know about the people I have sworn to give my life to defend." She glanced at the food on his plate. "How come you get the nice stuff? This food hall crap reeks." she pushed her plate away.

"Ah, Sparx. Always a picky eater," Random Virus rolled over to the table and sat his tray down. "Such a delicate palate," he teased.

"You had Dr. Grey today, didn't you?" she asked him.

"Yep. According to her, this," he tapped the metal plate on the side of his face with his fork handle. "Is a mask, behind which I hide all my emotions." Although he liked to laugh about his therapy, the cyborg knew it was doing him good.

"And how was the good doctor?" Sparx grinned suggestively at him.

"Fine," Random mumbled, suddenly finding the contents of his lunch fascinating. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Sparx glanced over at Ace, who was pulling some envelopes from his jacket pocket. "Letters from home?"

"Yeah." Ace rolled his eyes.

"How's Buzz the lady killer?"

"If you believe this," he held up his letter. "Then he's finally been caught."

"What are the rest of us women to do?" Sparx feigned distress.

"I'm sure that if you put on a dress and paraded past, he'd go after you," Ace smiled.

Sparx stuck her tongue out at him, then raised her eyebrow at the second envelope, the letter in which had already been read.

It was addressed in writing that looked like a drunken spider had walked through ink then over the envelope.

"How's Elspeth?"

"You really are too nosy, you know that?"

"No, I'm just bored."

"She's fine. She's got a job working for Father Time, after that she'll be able to visit. She wanted me to tell you that she's ready for that re-match you promised her."

"Tell her she's on," Sparx grinned. "How 'bout you, 'borg. Any word from home?"

"Nope." Random stabbed his fork into his food a little harder.

"You dad's still not replying, huh?" Ace asked him. Random just shook his head.

"Sheesh! Don't _any_ of us get on with our parents?" asked Sparx.

"Oh, I get on with them," said Ace. "But that's about it. Have you heard from Master Remus?" he asked Sparx.

She sighed. "He went back to the First Dimension. But at least he's taken on some new students. I don't think I'll be seeing him for a while." She turned back to her magazine.

Random and Ace exchanged glances over her head, then turned back to their food.

"We're all lucky we've got us, then," said Ace, putting his letters away.

Sparx and Random raised their glasses. "Hear hear!"

**A/N:** Both **LightningFlash** and **Sarah Frost** love feedback. Review, please?


	2. The Princess' Tale

**CHAPTER TWO: THE PRINCESS' TALE**

_In the Second Dimension, there was once a princess,_ the story starts, _but she was not like other girls. _They never are. And once the story starts it will take us to many different dimensions and intersecting fates, and is the story of much more than one lost princess who returned after much travail, but here is as good a place to start as any.

_Princess Amandine Aurora Sparx ThunderZoar was the fourth child and only daughter of the beautiful Queen Hazel, who was very happy to have a girl, though her husband King Ivor did not agree. Though her father insisted she be called Amandine, after an ancient great-aunt with three flabby chins and wrinkled hands dripping with jewels, and Aurora, in honour of the chief deity of the land, Hazel got her way with the child's third name, which would set Sparx apart from all the other spoilt princesses she knew._

_The Princess Amandine, fourth child with three brothers, was never expected to do anything other than marry someone of great wealth and importance. _A weak way to finish off the family, _King Ivor thought, but he was wrong._

_When her daughter was three years old, Queen Hazel fell pregnant again, at great risk to herself, though the King insisted that the child had to survive, for he was sure it would be a boy. Throughout the Queen's difficult pregnancy the Lord Angus, son of the famed soldier Duke William the Bearded, was constantly by her side, her only comfort and solace._

_Several days after the princess' fourth birthday, her mother died in childbirth after extracting a promise from her husband to keep the baby and look after it well. The baby was a boy, but after the difficult birth the midwives doubted it would last so much as a week. Yet last a week it did, and far longer than that. The child was always sickly however, and at six months it was discovered that the baby was blind._

_Shamed by the presence of such weakness in his family, Ivor ordered the baby's existence kept secret from birth, spreading the rumour that it died with his mother. Even his three older sons believed this. Only the young Princess, whom the king thought could do no damage, and a few nurses were aware of the baby's existence._

_The baby's name was Ivory, less for his father than for his pale skin and eyes._

_Amandine—for so her father insisted she be called , though she preferred her mother's name for her—grew close to her bed-ridden youngest brother, for they were both largely ignored by their father and older brothers. Keeping his promise, the King gave Ivory the best medical assistance possible, and gave the youngest Prince anything he wanted, except for the presence of his father. From a young age, Ivory developed a talent for sculpture, his sense of touch greatly enhanced through his lack of sight, and his sister let him shape her face in clay as often as he liked._

_While her brother rested, Amandine left him in order to watch her three older brothers training to become fine swordsmen and fighters, preferring this pastime to practicing her writing and needlework. Ignored by her family, she grew to become a wild child._

_One day, Amandine slid down the railing of the main staircase, covered in clay from Ivory's latest sculpture, and collided with her father. King Ivor decide that immediate action had to be taken, for surely nobody would be foolish enough to marry this ragamuffin. He hired a governess to turn the Princess into a young lady, and the first thing he insisted on her learning was discipline._

_Five years before this, a man known as Master Remus had been driven from his home dimension. He was a man old before his years, clad in the enveloping brown cloak of the Atmos, carrying nothing but a simple wooden staff. His home had been the First Dimension, until the land of the Atmos had been colonised by the forces of one Lord Reinhard, plundering the soil for valuable minerals. Master Remus was reputed to be the greatest martial artist of his dimension, and due to the recommendation of the governess was brought to King Ivor's capital with his wife and son to teach the Princess Amandine discipline through his arts. She took to it as a duck to water, and Master Remus visited the palace every day as Amandine was not allowed out until her governess had washed her face with lemon juice, to get rid of her freckles. Not only did Amandine learn martial arts, but some of the traditional Atmos gifts as well, the power to manipulate the very air itself. She never attained the skill of a pure-born Atmos, but it was a skill which would greatly help her in the future._

_Amandine was fourteen when her father announced her betrothal, to Lord Reinhard, a cold and calculating man, old enough to be her grandfather. It was rumoured that he had killed his wife, because she had not produced an heir and was past childbearing age. King Ivor believed that Reinhard would die soon, leaving his daughter a wealthy and independent woman, but Amandine was frightened by the ancient Lord and left the palace one night, accompanied and helped by Master Remus, who had come to regard her as a daughter._

_The lost princess lived quietly and in hiding with Master Remus, his wife Zarah, and their son Zalik, whose gentle nature reminded Amandine—now called Sparx—of her brother Ivory._

_When Sparx was fifteen, her adopted family attempted to return to the First Dimension and their home, but the ongoing struggle between the Atmos and Lord Reinhard caused the death of Mother Zarah, and Master Remus swore that if he ever came face to face with Lord Reinhard, the man would die._

_The family was forced to flee to the Sixth Dimension, and there lived quietly for a year, until one night Zalik was late returning home and his family went to search for him…_


	3. Memory of a Battle

**CHAPTER THREE: MEMORY OF A BATTLE**

"Right, men," called Portius to a group of trainee Knights, barely old enough to command that title. "Here's where we stop. Choose your battle stations and set up." He turned to his pack, but stood up suddenly when he heard weapon fire. "I though I told you to set up, not--" he stopped as a green bolt of energy illuminated the dark night and hit his shoulder.

"Sir! It's Fear!" called a promising young Knight, named Ace Lightning.

"Men! Prepare for battle. This is _not_ a drill!" Portius warmed up his wrist cannons as a skeletal sorcerer, who went by the name of Lord Fear, and his many minions came into view.

"Another fresh batch, boys! Get 'em while they're hot!" laughed the skeleton. He fired at Portius, who returned his fire.

The young trainees, most of whom were fighting for real for the first time, struggled against the minions. They were outnumbered and outclassed, and many of them were destroyed, still to young to have been given the ability to power up.

"Lightning! Zalik! Get over here!" Portius called his two finest trainees to his side. "We need to separate Fear from his minions. That's the only way for us to win this." He dodged another blow, before returning it. "I'll draw his fire while you two attack him from behind, got it?" He didn't let them answer. "Good. Move." He ran to the other end of the alleyway that had been selected for a routine training exercise, effectively drawing all of Fear's attention.

Ace and Zalik ran quietly through the shadows, staying out of the battle that was raging around them as effectively as they could, then fired on the skeleton with their low-power trainee weapons. The skeleton turned on them, and Portius fired from behind, but not in time to stop Fear from attacking the trainees. Zalik took a full blow to his chest, and stumbled backwards, crashing into some over-turned rubbish bins.

"Zalik!" Ace ran over to his friend, but the young man was already dead.

"No!" Ace dropped to his knees as Portius fired at Fear again. The skeleton was defeated, and called together his minions before leaving.

Portius walked over and placed a hand on Ace's shoulder. "Tron!" he yelled to one of the dazzled trainees. "Call for assistance, then give me a fatality count."

The young man nodded and carried out his grim task. "Ten dead, and another seven injured, Sir."

"He was . . . friend . . ." muttered Ace, still leaning over Zalik's body. He and Portius both turned at the sound of two strangled gasps.

A middle-aged man and a young girl, both dressed as Atmos, although the girl clearly wasn't one, were staring at Zalik. They both ran to the boy's body and dropped to the ground beside him. Portius quickly pulled Ace to his feet and stood him to the side. They watched as the man laid a hand over Zalik's chest. As he looked up at the girl, a tear spilled from his eye. The girl bent down and pressed her face into Zalik's chest, her shoulders shaking.

Portius stepped forward. "Uh, excuse me, but--" he stopped as the girl jumped and pulled a long sword from her belt.

"You killed him!" she yelled, her voice cracking. She brought up her sword and sliced it at him. Portius jumped out of the way, and the girl was about to strike again when the man called out.

"Sparx! Stop it! This is not how Zalik would want to be remembered."

The girl lowered her sword and turned to him. "But father Remus! I have to defend his honour! His life will _not_ have been taken for nothing!"

"If you kill these men, what will you achieve? A life in prison will not bring honour to Zalik. I have lost one child today, Sparx. Do not rob me of another."

The girl sighed and put her sword away. The man scooped up Zalik's body, before turning to Portius.

"What was my son doing here, with you?"

"He was training to become a Lightning Knight, sir. We were attacked by an enemy, and, as you can see, your son was not our only fatality." Portius sighed as he looked around at the fallen bodies.

"A lightning Knight? He never told me that." The girl looked hurt. "I don't believe you! Zalik tells me everything! _Told_ me everything."

Ace stepped forward. "It was a surprise. He wanted to honour your family by telling you on his graduation day." Ace felt a flicker of a smile as he looked at the girl "He told me about you. He said you'd make a good Knight."

"So it was _your_ enemies that killed _my_ son?" the man asked.

"Listen, Master Remus, right? Your son was one of my best recruits. He would have made a great Lightning Knight."

"So who was it? Who killed him?" the girl asked, grasping the handle of her sword.

"I afraid I can't tell you that, young lady." Portius glanced at her. "You look familiar, have I seen you somewhere before?"

"You'd remember." The girl glared back.

"Come on, Sparx. We have to leave." The man turned to go, and the girl took one last look at the Knights before following him.

- -

She saw them again at Zalik's funeral, the Knight Portius and his student Ace. "I want to join and take Zalik's place. And if you refuse to tell me who killed him, I'll make every Evil I meet pay."

Portius looked at her for a long time before answering. "Do you know anything about fighting? How to use that sword properly?"

"Of course. I was trained by Master Remus himself."

"Well, if your . . . guardian approves, then I can't see why not. What's your full name?"

The girl had frowned for a moment before answering. "Sparx. Just Sparx."

"Right then, Sparx. I can't say it officially yet, but welcome to the Academy of Lightning Knights." He held out his hand, and she took it.

**A/N:** Feedback of all sorts will be welcomed.


	4. Job Interview

**CHAPTER FOUR: JOB INTERVIEW**

The phone beeped, and he smiled as he heard the familiar message.

"_I assume you know what number this is. Leave a message. If I'm interested, I'll get back to you._"

Short and to-the-point. She'd never been particularly talkative.

"Hello, Elspeth? It's Ace here. I just wanted to say, all the best for the job interview…"

Behind him, there were muffled crashes and yells, and he quickly finished the message.

"I know you'll be fine."

There was another crash from behind him, and a yell, "Ace! Get over here!"

"I love you. Gotta go. Lightning out."

He hung up, and joined the battle against Claude Dubreuil's vampire clan.

- -

Meanwhile, the woman he'd been talking to walked through the side gate of a large castle, in the Second Dimension.

In her professional career she was known as Lady Illusion, an elven mercenary, and she had an appointment with Lord Reinhard, who was seeking to hire fighters for his quest to dominate the Atmos of the First Dimension.

She found her way to the study easily enough—she'd used the advantage of shapeshifting powers to explore the area previously, as a mercenary she'd learned to dislike surprises—and was shown in by a servant, a young maid swimming in an oversized uniform.

Lord Reinhard was sitting behind an ornate oak desk, wearing a large silver cross over an expensive-looking dark velvet robe. His long silver hair was an indication of his age, and he held himself stiffly as though the least relaxation of control would send him toppling onto his desk.

Behind him hung a portrait of a young red-headed girl, with an expression closer to a scowl than anything else across her face, and Lady Illusion spent a few seconds looking at it in surprise.

Next to Lord Reinhard stood a young woman with large pale eyes, her clothing revealing long legs in fishnet stockings and a large portion of not-particuarly-expansive cleavage. Her name was Veronique. Lady Illusion didn't bother to watch the woman; she could see from her stance and movement that this one would not be dangerous in a battle.

"Ah. Lady Illusion. A DarkElf?"

"Yes." She didn't bother to elaborate, or tell the truth about her half-blood heritage; it would only complicate matters.

"I've heard of your people. Are you as skilled in sorcery as your people are rumoured to be?"

"I'm no sorceress. My talents lie in more martial areas."

"And a shapeshifter. Skilled in deceit?"

"It is said to come with the territory."

"I heard about the…events in your home dimension. The squabble over the amulet. Assuming I hire you, what guarantee do I have that you will not betray me?"

"I acted to protect my dimension, and myself, from an insane sorcerer," she said crisply. "My only regret is that I did not act sooner. I have offered several references to your scribes. Since the events of which you speak, I've carried out all the commissions I've accepted."

He chose to ignore the latter part of her speech. "You have no links with the Lightning Knights?"

"We had common goals for a time." She shrugged. "For obvious reasons, I haven't remained in contact." The statement was a lie, but she doubted he'd ever come to know about it. She was officially still a wanted criminal, after all, even if the Knights weren't in active pursuit of her.

"I see. Understand, then, that I consider death adequate payment for betrayal."

"I understand. Believe me, I have no wish to lose chance of future employment."

He reached across his desk to press a button.

"Consider this the…practical part of the interview," he said, and from behind a large panel in the wall an empty suit of armour, carrying a nasty-looking axe, walked out.

Lady Illusion noted the ornate details on the armour.

"A fine creation. Berglioni?" she asked, dodging a blow from the axe.

"His apprentice. One of the finer sorcerers-craftsmen. Do you agree?"

"Even among my own people, his works are admired." She narrowly dodged another swing of the axe, and aimed a kick at the homunculus' knee-joint.

"I assume…you don't want it damaged?" She tried to wrestle the axe from it, but the thing was stronger than her, and jammed the handle into her thigh.

"You didn't need to ask that question. In any case, it is simple to reanimate." Lord Reinhard was now leaning forward, watching the fight with interest.

Lady Illusion jumped behind the moving armour, and quickly struck at its neckjoint. The helmet flew off revealing nothing beneath the metal, but the figure continued to move.

She materialised a dagger in her right hand from a crystal ball, and used that to attempt to block the axeblows.

The fight had moved towards a stand carrying an expensive-looking vase, and Lady Illusion saw where the axes next blow would shatter. Quickly, she inserted the dagger in the wristjoint, and the axe flew out of the homunculus' hands.

Lady Ilusion teleported across the room to catch it just before it bisected the girl's portrait, and turned back to the battle to separate the remaining pieces of armour with one well-placed kick.

Lord Reinhard nodded. "Not bad. I'm grateful my possessions remained unscathed. Consider yourself hired. You'll find my Commander Lukas at some point tomorrow, and discuss terms with him."

She bowed, and left the room as Lord Reinhard turned to his assistant.

"Thoughts, Veronique?"

"She doesn't intend to betray you," the woman said thoughtfully, staring into space. "Though she's not telling the whole truth. But you know mercenaries."

Veronique attempted a dismissive shrug, and succeeded in dislodging her outfit, exposing more pale flesh. Lord Reinhard didn't think he minded.

- -

As Lady Illusion walked from the castle, she saw the little maid again, and gestured to her.

"Would you happen to know the history of the portrait behind Lord Reinhard's desk?" she asked, producing a coin from a crystal ball.

"Before my time, miss," the maid said, "but Mam told me it's by the Meniar…Menire…Something the Younger, anyway, all the way from the Fourth Dimension."

"Merrehino the Younger?"

"Yes, that sounds right. Are you a…_con-o-sewer_?"

"Merely a visitor who has travelled widely and feels some curiosity. Can you tell me about the subject?"

"It's of the Princess Amandine, she ran away years ago, when she was only fourteen. She was betrothed to Lord Reinhard."

The girl's voice dropped to a whisper.

"Some say he's the reason why she left. But Mam says there are worse masters around, and he's not a bad man. I think it's terribly romantic, he still has her portrait in his study and he's been searching for her all these years."

"What happened to the Princess?"

"Nobody knows. There's a huge reward for finding her, from her father the King who's dying and Lord Reinhard. A story said she was working in a bar as a tavern maid in another dimension. But I don't know."

Lady Illusion nodded. "You've been very helpful. Thank you," she said, and gave the girl an extra coin.

- -

Later, a phone conversation… 

"Evening."

"It's morning here. You forgot the time difference between the dimensions. How was the interview?"

"I have a rather nasty bruise on my leg, but I got the job. How was the fight?"

"We're all fine. The vampires of Londres have been really active lately, you know how it is…"

"I've had that experience. So, still stuck in the Sixth Dimension?"

"Londres is a large and thriving city."

"With the largest pollution problem this side of the Netherworld. I'm in the Second Dimension…as you can guess, the weather's lovely here, though my lodgings aren't anything to boast about. My old one-room flat in Londres was better than the pub at which I'm presently staying."

"You should come back to Londres to visit while I'm still posted here. It's been a while since our last meeting…"

"If the job finishes early I'll teleport down there, but this is something I need to stick at."

"I understand. Until we meet again?"

"Until we meet again. I love you."

"Love you too. Bye."

**A/N:** Feedback of all sorts is still much appreciated.


	5. The Origins Of Veronique

**CHAPTER FIVE: THE ORIGINS OF VERONIQUE**

She was born the fourth daughter and sixth child of a fisherman near the Elbe River, on a date nobody remembered. She was a sickly child, and her parents thought she would surely die young, young and unregretted, because her family was poor and needed strong sons to live.

It was her oldest sister, Persia—who in the village's collective memory was beautiful, and kind, and one of the Dual God's own children, taken from them at the cruel age of sixteen—who kept Veronique alive, holding her and warming her and feeding her thickened broth made from what little food the family possessed.

Veronique's earliest memory was of being held by her sister at the pier's edge, Persia's long dark salt-spattered hair blowing into her face while on the horizon black seabirds wailed as they swooped across the sky.

_A beauty_, the town gossips always said of Persia, and a walking saint too. _Pity she wastes so much time on that blind mooncalf of a child…_

Veronique didn't know what the word "mooncalf" meant, and whenever she approached the gossips they would fall silent.

She wondered if it was something to do with the way the other children mocked her, teasing her for not being able to keep up with their games. She couldn't run as fast as the others, and she liked to sit still and dream.

_I want to leave this place like the seabirds_, she'd say to herself, and in her head she'd be swooping across the sky with them, until she'd open her eyes and realise that half the day or even more had gone past while she'd lain there dreaming.

_The child's not too weak to help_, her father or mother would say, and she'd be roughly dragged into their hut, told to keep her eyes open, and twist nets with the rest of her family, her and her sisters and her mother, pregnant with whatever baby was on the way.

She was four years old when she saw for the first time—she always thought of it like that, it wasn't like ordinary seeing.

"Persia, am I a changeling?" she'd asked her sister, after Pierre-the-carpenter's-son had thrown a stone at her and taunted her with the name.

Persia laughed, gently. "You're my sister, and that's what counts. Come and I'll show you something special."

She took Veronique by the hand, and led her to the stream that ran through the village, where they got their drinking water.

There was a still puddle not far from it—the first rain of spring had come the day before—and Persia told her sister to bend over the water, and look.

At first, Veronique saw nothing but blurred shapes in the water, and a dark pool that might have been her sister's hair. But she sat still, and saw shapes form in the cold depths.

She saw her sister's deep blue eyes and thick hair blowing in the wind, and noticed that beside her sister's beauty she herself was small and faded, though at the time the child had no words for it.

The water rippled, and Veronique continued to study the reflections through the moving surface. Her hair was a lighter shade than her sister's, a darkish indeterminate brown, but it was her eyes that were really different, a pale grey colour close to the colour of old Blind Johann's whitened eyes than Persia's stunning blue, and much larger.

"Do you see yourself?" Persia laughed. "Don't worry. You're no changeling."

Veronique wasn't looking at her reflection any more. She saw the pond's surface ripple again, and she felt she was falling into it, dropping beneath the water. She saw her father's boat as surely as if she was looking at it.

She felt a heavy wind blowing, and smelled the sea salt as though she was there on the boat with the fishermen.

A wave rose from the depths—taller than anything she'd ever seen before—and swallowed the boat, and her father with it.

She wanted to scream—_Papa, where are you, help me_—but in the wind's howling she had no voice.

"Veronique? Veronique?"

She felt Persia's hands shaking her, and she opened her eyes.

"There was a storm," she said. "Papa—where is he?"

"There's no storm, _petit_. You're safe with me. You just fell asleep, staring into the puddle." Persia wrapped her arms around her.

"I saw Papa swallowed up by a wave—" Veronique began, crying.

"Shh, little one. You're safe. Come home with me."

Veronique allowed herself to be comforted and carried back, though she did not forget her sight, and that night in her dreams she woke up screaming. Persia was there to comfort her.

The day after that, not long after the fishers' boats had left, the sky began to darken, and a harsh wind blew.

Most fishermen chose to return early that day, but the boat of Goodman Piscis was lost to the sea.

"Veronique—tell nobody what you saw, you understand me?" said Persia, her face wet with tears.

The Piscis family suffered with no husband to support them, and Veronique's two older brother hired themselves out to other fishermen while the rest of the family crafted nets, struggling to survive. The youngest baby died of cold and hunger, and her mother's hair lost all traces of colour as her fingers became gnarled and twisted, old before her time.

Gabrielle ran away to become a maid in Helmsbad, the nearest town, and Persia followed her, though Persia would come home each evening to take care of the family.

She gets her looks from me, her mother would say, white-haired and wrinkled, bent over another piece of netting.

Veronique was six when the second son of the town's wealthiest merchant took an interest in Persia, and she knew it before it happened.

A silvery glimpse, like a pond's reflection but brighter, and Persia's laughing tone talking about how handsome, how wonderful her love was, but Veronique was still too young to understand, and she'd known the vision of the boat had been something of terror.

Persia brought home a small mirror, a gift from her lover, and showed her family. Veronique glimpsed her own face in it—still pale-eyed, small and bony—and quickly handed it back, unwilling to see another reflection.

_Her sister stood in the shadow of a tree, dark limbs stretching menacingly over her as tears filled the world,_ Veronique dreamed, but when she opened her eyes she saw her sister laughing.

"He promises we'll marry next spring," Persia said, and swung her little sister around in celebration. "In the town church with everyone looking on, can you believe it?"

Veronique knew what she saw, but did not interrupt her sister's joy.

It was nearly a month later that Persia began to lose some of her exuberance, and walked more slowly around the house. Her depression was obvious, and Veronique heard the gossips discussing her.

_Betrayed her with sweet talk he did, cast her off, wedding some rich city girl from up north. She was a fool to trust him with that talk of marriage. Poor lass, nowhere to go, and her mother with seven already…._

"You'll not stay under my roof, girl," Veronique heard her mother say. "We may be poor, but we're respectable, and I can't feed your bastard. Find the Spiegler boy and beg him for money, he has wealthy kin." With that, her mother swept her arm through the air as if the sheer force of motion could remove her daughter from her sight, and Persia's mirror fell on the ground and smashed into a thousand pieces.

Persia wept through the night, sobbing into a scrap of material. Veronique tried to place her arms around her sister, but Persia struggled out of her grasp.

The night after that, Veronique woke to find Persia gone from the hut, and screamed until the family all came awake.

"The tree," she wept, remembering her dream and knowing that something terrible had happened. "The rope…"

She led her mother to the woods near the stream where they found Persia's body, swinging from a large branch of an old oak.

_Later,_ Veronique saw, _Johannes son of Merchant Spiegler would kneel before her begging her for mercy for the sake of her sister, and she would refuse him, for the sake of that same sister, and like her he would perish hanging from a tree, and Veronique would not regret it._

Rumours flew about the town after that, how the child had known somehow of the death of her sister, and had led her mother to it.

_Moonchild, changeling_, Veronique heard, and still did not know what they meant.

She knew she was different somehow, knowing things that others did not. She did not wish to know—she remembered the water, and the tree, and the darkness, and still woke screaming some nights.

Six months later, when some of the pain had faded and she could forget for days at a time that Persia was dead she saw the Preston boat, returning loaded with the largest catch she'd ever seen. She saw Fisher Preston coming down the street, and told him he'd have a large catch soon. He was shocked when he came home the next day with a full boat, and told the whole village about it.

After that, people sometimes pestered her with questions, _what is the weather going to be like, does Petra from next village love me, will I sell all my fish at marketday_, and when she could she answered as best she was able.

She's odd, the gossips said, and has an uncanny eye for knowing things—it's those big pale eyes, the child looks almost blind—but there's no harm in her.

The priest asked her if she had a devil in her, and she told him no, and her mother looked shocked and warned the gossip henceforth not to tell others about her.

"She's a child of our village," her mother said, "and I don't want anyone gawking at her like some freak at a festival. She's done all of you good service at some time and I don't expect you to ruin that."

Veronique continued spinning nets, and in her village they still occasionally asked her something. She remained a local secret.

_Strange child, but blessed. Can't be the Devil's work, she's a good girl, polite and everything. It's just that she's so quiet, and looks at you with those eyes…_ The gossip would make the sign of the Dual God then, and fall silent.

Veronique Piscis was fifteen when Lord Reinhard visited Helmsbad, and her older sister Gabrielle, who served in the home of the mayor, came rushing home to tell her family the news.

"They say he's the richest man this side of the Eastern Sea!" Gabrielle said excitedly, on one of her rare visits home. "He arrives this week, and Mayor Johansen's entertaining him and his men. Master told me that since I'm such an efficient worker—" Gabrielle gave a twirl of excitement; she was plain-featured and quiet, and did not often get a chance to dance and laugh—"he told me to return to my village and find extra staff just for the occasion, he asked me if I had any sisters I could bring."

"Mother needs me to prepare the nets," Aimee said, from a corner. She was two years older than Veronique, and did not like to go to places where there were too many people for her to feel comfortable.

"That's right. The prop of my old age," their mother said. She was permanently displeased with Gabrielle these days, who hardly ever sent money back or visited.

"Well then, Veronique can walk into town with me tonight," Gabrielle said.

"You want Veronique?" her mother said. "Lazy girl. Never pays attention to what you say, and makes people nervous the way she looks at them."

"I've heard she knows things, but that's just old gossip, Mother." Gabrielle laughed. "Veronique, can you do what you're told just for a few evenings? You'll be well paid for it…"

"I will," said Veronique, and it ended up being settled.

Gabrielle told her sister what needed doing in the big house, and Veronique found it easy enough to follow orders.

There were new gossips here, different ones. _Lord Reinhard…they say he's the richest man in the kingdom but one of the oldest and nastiest, it's said the Princess Amandine ran away four years ago rather than marry him…I wouldn't have said no to him, no matter how ugly he is. _There would be laughter at this point in the conversation, and then they would usually switch to different topics, _the lace tablecloths need to be soaked in Goody Françoise's recipe, how many places should be set Anna, Monique von Friesler's daughter is marrying this spring, not a moment too soon at that…_

Veronique, hiding in the shadows, caught a glimpse of Lord Reinhard as he arrived with his retinue, a tall silver-haired man, wearing dull black. _He's not as ugly as they said,_ she thought, and was cuffed on the head and sent back to the kitchens.

There was a large feast that night, the mayor and the town doing their best to please the visiting lord, and when Emilie, one of the serving maids, fell ill, Veronique was given her duties, to wait at the table.

"Be polite and respectful," Gabrielle said, "be careful with the food and drink, don't you dare drop anything, and watch yourself around the noblemen, they could probably have you executed if they really wanted to. And remember that if you make a mistake it'll hurt me too."

Veronique nodded, and pulled on the maid's uniform. It was too roomy at the top though the skirts ended well above her ankle, and Gabrielle sighed at the fit and did her best to yank it into position before sending her sister out.

Veronique saw Lord Reinhard sitting at the head of the table, dressed in black that contrasted with the peacock colours of most of his sycophants, and turned her attention to serving the mayor and his fellows, at the bottom of the table. She scraped a finger over a splinter as she offered a plate to a woman in a long green dress, and saw a trickle of blood begin to make its way down her hand.

She laid a wineglass onto the table, glancing briefly at the red liquid inside.

_Red as blood and fluid as water…_

She saw a young man with a bland, smiling face take a vial from his pocket, and pour it into two goblets, passing one along to the silver-haired man a few seats along from him. The young man drank himself, and Veronique saw a red haze blur over him.

_Poison._

The young man reached for another vial from his pocket, and carefully drank from it, draining it to the depths.

The red haze disappeared.

_What was in there. That healed him,_

The silver-haired man began to shake, and collapsed onto the table, and the red haze spread over him.

_They're going to poison him_, Veronique knew.

Bright colours swirled around her, the crimson of death.

_It's another death I see._

She snapped back to herself with a demand for _more grapes, over here, girl, are you blind or just stupid?_

She served the grapes, and looked up to see the young man with the bland face grab the vial from his pocket.

_I know what's going to happen. I _know

"More drink—" someone waved a glass in her direction, and she hurried to pour the wine.

"This? Something from my estates, the famed brew of the De Bouisson family. The rarity of the grape does not permit more than a small amount to be made." The young man poured the liquid into two glasses. "It would honour us if you sampled it, my lord."

The young man passed one goblet along to Lord Reinhard before drinking deeply from his own.

Veronique turned, and saw Lord Reinhard also drink.

"A good wine," the silver-haired man said, holding the attention of the table. "To our host."

The tone of his voice was steady, and unlike a lot of the other nobles there he appeared sober.

While the attention of the table was focused on Lord Reinhard, Veronique saw the young man reach for the other vial in his pocket.

_I see death, and this time I can prevent it…_

Veronique ran towards the young man, and snatched the vial from his hand.

He turned angrily to her, and grabbed her dress by its cavernous collar. "You thief!" he said, distracting the gathering.

He tried to snatch the vial from her, but she held onto it, and he feared that it would break.

"Return my property to me, girl, and I won't have you hanged."

Veronique felt her voice was lost.

"Poison…" she stammered.

The young man shook her, fiercely.

"Give it back before your careless fingers smash it."

There was a sudden cry from the head of the table, and she saw Lord Reinhard begin to collapse as his court crowded around him.

"It was your goblet he just drank from, Bouisson," a hard-faced man wearing armour over his doublet said. "What is the girl holding?"

The armoured man easily took the vial from her, and the young man looked dismayed, letting go of Veronique.

"It is a tonic I prefer…I will drink some myself just to show it is safe…"

"It…heals the poison he placed in Lord Reinhard's glass," Veronique said quietly.

The young man turned a horrible shade of purple, and fell onto the table, reaching out a hand for his vial.

"Please…" he gasped out.

The armoured man ignored him.

"Pray that you're right, girl," he said, and cleared a path for himself to walk over to Lord Reinhard and force the vial between his lips.

Veronique saw the young man collapse onto the floor, and knew he was dead.

_There was still death tonight, no matter what I did…_

She gagged, and ran out of the dining room as quickly as she could. In the confusion nobody noticed her.

_The poisoner is dead, she heard them say the next morning, but Lord Reinhard lives. Made a bargain with the devil himself, they say, to live so old, he's a lucky man. Still, they say he's not well, he'll stay here for longer, the mayor's not happy…_

Veronique kept silent, and scrubbed plates in the kitchen now that Emilie had returned to take up her proper position.

She didn't expect to see the armoured man visit the kitchen, and pick her out of the other serving maids, to bring her in for questioning.

_She's my little sister_, Gabrielle protested, crying, _a bit touched they say, not quite right in the head, but there's no harm in her, she'd never poison anyone…_

"She's coming with me," the armoured man said, and Gabrielle fell silent.

The armoured man brought her to a small chamber, a partitioned-off bit of the mayor's attic, and motioned her to sit down.

"My guards interrogated the servants and associates of the late Pierre de Bouisson," he said, "and found that the poisoning plot originated with his father and was carried out by de Bouisson, acting alone. He would have needed no accomplices here, and was not quite foolish enough to allow anyone unnecessary into the plot. The first time you saw de Bouisson was upon the day of the feast, am I correct?"

"Yes. I have lived in the small village of Aquel-on-Sea all my life, sir, this is the first time I've come to town."

He nodded. "I believe you. I have spoken to others about you. Then tell me, how did you know that was the antidote?"

"I…saw it. All my life, I have sometimes…known what is going to happen."

The armoured man looked surprised. He bent over her, staring incredulously.

"Really? Are you sure you did not simply observe?"

"I knew, sir," Veronique said, frightened of the change in his expression.

"Stay there," he said, and returned in the company of another man, a dark-skinned man with a large moustache and an ascetic look to him.

"The girl claims to be a…strange one, Hassan. I'll leave this up to you," he said, and walked out of the room.

The man called Hassan reached out a hand, and lifted Veronique's head, examining her eyes.

"Perhaps, girl…there is little other explanation for your actions other than the knowledge." He released her, and stepped back. "Odd that a peasant girl…even so, I have orders to take you to his lordship in person."

The silver-haired man was resting in a large four-poster bed. Veronique noticed that he was still wearing black. _He's not ugly_, she decided, _even if he is old._

"This is the girl, my lord," Hassan said, and bowed.

Veronique waited a moment, then realised she had to drop a curtsy and quickly did so.

"Captain Lukas tells me you are to blame for saving my life," Lord Reinhard said. "Come closer, girl, I don't bite."

She walked up to him, and he grasped her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.

"You have the gift of futuretelling?"

"I know…some things, sometimes, my lord. The priest once said it was a devil in me…"

He laughed, dryly. "There are others like you. Not many, but some have giftings."

He didn't release her wrist, and looked at her thoughtfully, eyeing her up and down.

"And your face could be your fortune as much as your gift, girl."

He thinks I'm…attractive, she knew, stunned.

Lord Reinhard broke off into a coughing fit.

"Pardon me. I am still weak from the poison. I'll offer you a reward, girl. What's your name?"

"Veronique," she said.

"The saint who aided the Dual God. Appropriate."

He started coughing again, and Hassan looked worried.

"My lord, I'll take the girl away—"

"Yes, do so. Give her money for her family, and offer her the chance to leave with us. What would you say to that, girl?"

"I…thank you, my lord," she said, and remembered to curtsy again as Hassan dragged her out.

-

_I could…leave with them. Leave the village, leave my family._

She ran to the puddle near the stream and looked at herself again, wondering if what Lord Reinhard had said about her face had been true.

She could see no trace of Persia in her features, none of her sister's wild beauty and stunning curves. She was skinny and angular—_no flesh on her_, she'd heard them say,_ skin and bones, one good breeze would knock her over_—her skin as pale as a fish's underbelly, cropped darkish hair every which way, and large, staring, eyes that almost looked like she was blind. _Who could like her with those eyes and that stare? And the knowledge? Uncanny, that's what she is._

_Your face could be your fortune as much as your gift, girl…._

_I'm not pretty,_ she decided, _but I can try to be. And I can do some things, and that'll have to be enough._

She saw something then, saw herself entering the doors of a castle larger than her entire village, clad in some sort of rich fabric that she'd never seen in her village, seated next to Lord Reinhard, his loyal servant. She saw great events, wars and battles and kingdoms, and saw herself observing, watching. _Seeing._

_I can fly away from here, like the seabirds._

"I'm more than willing to go with you, my lord," she said, and curtsied as best she could.

**A/N:** Feedback? Yes, please. (You shouldn't need reminding by now.)


	6. The Vampires Of Londres

**CHAPTER SIX: THE VAMPIRES OF LONDRES**

There were four vampires, the heads of three Clans, gathered around a table in a mansion in the largest city of the Sixth Dimension, a meeting that had never before occurred.

Claude Dubreuil stood, in front of a wine-red curtain covering a window, a fluted half-full glass in his hand, attempting to dominate the scene. He appeared in his early twenties, a tall, pale young man, slightly effeminate and very elegant. He had been Turned some two hundred years ago, and by various betrayals, deft manoeuvring, and sheer luck had risen to become the head of one of the three powerful vampire-Clans of the Twelve Dimensions. The conference was in his territory, and he expected that the other three would show him due respect.

Wilhelm and Helga von Krupp sat next to each other, just touching. Wilhelm was a stockily built man who appeared in his late fifties, though most guessed he'd passed his third century since his Turning. He wore a large sword hung over his back, and looked like he knew how to use it. His wife also carried a blade, hanging from a shabby leather swordbelt that looked like it had seen much use, and wore a long dark coat that contrasted with her fair hair. She looked some years younger than her husband, in her early thirties perhaps, although she'd actually been Turned not long after him. They had both been guardsmen in the city of Helmsbad, once, dedicated to upholding law and order in their city; their dedication now was to their Clan. Claude Dubreuil thought of them both as painfully middle-class, devoted to each other and their ridiculous ideals. Even so, he'd crossed swords with them before—metaphorically speaking of course, one would have to be either a fool or a prodigy to do so literally—and had found that the code of honour they possessed only increased their strength and determination.

The third figure sat silently, his face seemingly carved of granite, his enormous body thoroughly filling the largest chair Claude possessed. His name was Mr. Wang, and his origins were unknown, though he was rumoured to be far older than any other vampire in that room. He was an important figure not only to the vampires but to the Manchurian underworld that spread across most of the larger cities; it was well known that to cross him meant death. Behind Mr. Wang stood a female vampire, wearing traditional Manchurian costume, her head respectfully bowed, silent as she always was: his devoted bodyguard, known as Kitten. The nature of the relationship between her and Mr. Wang was unknown; they were rumoured to be anything from relatives to lovers to simply servant and master.

"Gentlemen, and lady," Claude said, acknowledging Helga's presence. He ignored Kitten; she was only a bodyguard after all, regardless of ability. "I requested the pleasure of your company in order to discuss an issue relevant to us all."

"We are busy people," Wilhelm von Krupp said. "Perhaps our host would like to get to the point."

"Very well." Claude nodded curtly. "The Blood Crystal is in the hands of the Atmos rebels, and is gathering power from them."

"An artefact of your clan, is that correct?" Wilhelm rapped out.

"An artefact that once belonged to my clan," Claude corrected. "Made by the original Drakul himself, in the old stronghold of the Fourth Dimension. A place of power. The powers of the Blood Crystal will only benefit all of us."

"Just how will this benefit be accomplished?" asked Helga smoothly. She was more diplomatic than her husband, Claude knew, but their purpose was invariably identical.

"Used by the weak, it has the power to compel minds. Used by the strong, it has powers that will completely dominate those we choose. In the hands of vampires, its properties mean that it will benefit our entire race. With this awesome weapon and with the combined strengths of our three clans, we vampires will no longer be bound to the shadows. This world should be ours."

He motioned to the curtained window.

"Those that wander there are human sheep. They may be numerous, but once the Blood Crystal has gathered power and returned to its rightful place in my clan, I will have the power to control as many of them as I wish."

"You were mortal once," Helga said softly. "As were we all."

"That was a long time ago. I have greater power now. Are you with me, or against me?"

"It seems you do not need us, young man." Mr. Wang spoke for the first time, in heavily-accented English. It was said that he used the accent as a device both to show pride in his nationality and to encourage his enemies to underestimate him. Claude Dubreuil had no intention of doing the latter. "Gather your powers. We will be waiting."

"We still retain…powerful enemies," Claude said. "The only way that I—that we—can win will be by alliance and cooperation. While we were promised a fair place under the sorcerer Lord Fear, that is all in the past, and we must continue our struggle for survival." His words contrasted with the elaborately appointed room. "And I have received news that the Lightning Knights are stepping up their anti-vampire crusade."

"You have encouraged the Lightning Knights to attack you," Wilhelm said. "And we all are feeling the effects."

Claude laughed. "That is part of my plan," he said. "Distract the Knights here, now, from our real strategy. Keep them distracted. We then gain the Blood Crystal, made powerful by the spirits of the Atmos, and take what we want. Control whom we want, other than those of our own race. Have I made myself clear to you, my fellow vampires?"

Wilhelm and Helga exchanged a wordless glance.

"Abundantly so," Helga said.

"We accept a provisional alliance against the Lightning Knights, because they are a threat to us all," her husband added. "But we will wait for results from you before committing to further agreements. And we will send a representative to the Atmos."

"So far the Lightning Knights have given my people little trouble." Mr. Wang fixed a steely glare on Claude, and the other vampire could not help but take a step back. "I expect results, young Dubreuil. Betray me and expect to die."

Claude's glance shifted momentarily to Kitten, but she hadn't moved. He nodded.

"I thank you for your consideration," he said. "I accept your terms and await further communications." He gestured to the door.

A vampire clad in a butler's outfit appeared.

"Please, escort our esteemed guests to the door," Claude announced. "This interview is over."

The von Krupps rose together with dignity, and left the room without once turning back. Mr. Wang made an elaborate gesture, and for an instant darkness covered the room. When light returned again, Claude noticed that both Mr. Wang and Kitten had disappeared completely.

_A cheap parlour trick_, he told himself. _And it is said that he is too weighty to move himself, though I would not like to depend on that rumour._

Claude Dubreuil called for his second-in-command, a man called Etienne Parry, said to have eyes as black and devilish as his long-dead heart, with an appetite for slaughter and torture unparalleled by even Dubreuil's own, and began to work on his plans for the defeat of the Lightning Knights, among other enemies.


	7. Rebellion in the First Dimension

**CHAPTER SEVEN: REBELLION IN THE FIRST DIMENSION**

"We shall no longer be slaves!" came the cry of the young Atmos standing atop the platform. He had long brown hair that blew wildly in the wind, and deeply set, fanatic eyes.

"Too long have we suffered under the feet of the human oppressors! For fifty years, we have laboured under the rule of Lord Reinhard. Our lands destroyed. Our people enslaved. Our traditions outlawed. Our powers exploited. Today, we seek to reclaim what is ours!"

There was a cheer from the crowd below, and to show their agreement the Atmos all levitated themselves four feet from the ground, using their collective ability to control airwaves.

Hidden in the crowd, a young Atmos male, with no distinguishing features to set him apart from the rest of his people, carefully watched. He was not all he seemed to be.

As the speaker continued his diatribe against Lord Reinhard, his wicked soldiers, and his mechanical monsters, the male observed the rebel leader from his convenient disguise.

The leader's name was Phoebus Ares, and he had risen to power over his people in only a short time, aged barely twenty-five. A young man, an extremely charismatic speaker, and bold in battle to validate his rhetoric.

_He's very convincing_, the male—who was, when not disguised, a shapeshifter who went by the name of Lady Illusion—thought. _I've heard a lot of this kind of rhetoric before, yet I almost feel I should rush to fight beside him and abandon my job._

She watched the speaker carefully, and noticed the amount of gew-gaws hanging from his outfit.

_Sorcery? A few spells bound into the ornaments, to help him carry the crowd to his side?_

It was then she noticed _it_, a red-coloured stone hanging around his neck, glinting in the bright desert light.

_That actually looks genuine. An odd possession for an Atmos. And of some magical power too, I can even tell from this distance. This would bear investigation_.

The crowd continued to cheer as Phoebus Ares continued his speech, caught up in the flow of his words and their desire for revenge.

-

From a distant cliff, another watcher was carefully examining the rebel leader. The watcher was cloaked in the traditional Atmos style, an expanse of dusty brown material covering both his features and the sword strapped to his side.

His name had been Marcus von Krupp since he was twelve years old, and he had been a vampire since his twenty-first birthday. He was the adopted son of the leaders of his Clan, and was loyal to their goals.

He, too, was impressed at the rhetoric, even more so as the leaders of his Clan preferred to avoid making elaborate speeches.

His purpose was to observe the rebel leader, to find out if Claude Dubreuil's information was correct.

Marcus had been silently cursing the slippery bastard since he'd arrived in this dimension, the godforsaken pile of sand that it was. Even tracking down and killing all of the Clan Dubreuil observers he could find—discreetly, of course—hadn't cheered him up.

He knew Lord Reinhard was interested in the dimension for the sake of the valuable minerals buried in its sands, and for the powers of its inhabitants, who had the ability to manipulate airwaves, but as far as he himself was concerned the whole sandy mess should have been left to its own devices.

It didn't take him long to notice the red-stained crystal around the rebel's neck, and noticed that the crystal grew a deeper crimson as the crowd became more excited.

Something in his blood thrilled at the sight, and he knew this was the legendary Blood Crystal, an artefact reputed to have been created by the oldest and first of vampires, the legendary Drakul. Its gift was control, an ancient vampiric Gift that enabled them to feed on their mortal prey with ease. In latter times that had become the specialty of Clan Dubreuil, the von Krupps favouring sword-to-sword combat and Mr Wang preferring to focus on the intrigue of his underworld. All three Clans, though, had been forced into the shadows by anti-vampire strictures in all dimensions; Marcus knew that in the hands of vampires once again, the Blood Crystal could mean the beginning of a new era for his people.

Marcus settled down to watch and wait, waiting for the Blood Crystal to gain strength from the devotion of these Atmos.

_Sheep. All sheep. It is _ours _to rule, by strength and by blood._

_-_

Another man in the crowd of Atmos watched, a grey-haired man carrying a walking stick, looking even older than his years, and did not like what he saw.

Master Remus, who had travelled to many dimensions in his time as a result of the invasion of his home dimension, did not approve.

_This way is…too violent. The crowd is raging, insane, fanatic. I have no love for Lord Reinhard, and I know he would have me killed if I ever gave him the chance. But I do not like Phoebus Ares, and I fear the will of the mob._

As a master of martial arts, Master Remus had learned the truths of battle first-hand, and had decided quite early on that he preferred to teach. He had lost his wife and his son to war, and lived with the knowledge that his adopted daughter had also chosen to live by her sword.

_War is a terrible thing. There are times when one must fight, and that is how I justified my coward's decision to teach others, but I do not believe this will be the time. I do not need seer's powers to know there will be death and bloodshed here…_

Master Remus slipped away from the crowd, leaning on his walking stick as he hobbled away, muttering something about an old man's pains. He did not like what was happening, and yet felt powerless to stop it.

-

Commander Lukas brushed a hand across his face to stop the blonde hair from blocking his vision, but the owner of the coiffure appeared to have other ideas as she pressed her lips against his face again.

Her name was Maxine Parry, and she was his mistress. Lukas liked using that word for her, even though it wasn't quite correct; mistresses were for richer men, nobles of aristocratic descent, not clerk's sons who had run off to join the army and risen through the ranks.

"And how do you find your mission, Commander?" she said, smiling as she draped herself over him.

"I've spent spies out—_aah, do that again_—and everything is proceeding exactly as planned."

She twisted his earlobe between her teeth, biting nearly hard enough to draw blood.

"Good."

-

A young Atmos woman bent over to light a fire inside her husband's tent, trying to stop herself from groaning at the effort. Her name was Ceres _ka_-Ares, and she was the wife of the young rebel leader as well as the daughter of a highly-ranked Atmos chieftain; eight years younger than her husband, she had left her father's tent nearly six months ago.

She looked the worse to wear for it, her once-glossy dark hair hanging lank and dull, her features drawn and pale, and her body wasted. Few would believe that the famous Atmos poet, Lyre Tenouli, had once penned her a ballad praising her beauty.

She looked up, her eyes wide and frightened as a young deer's, as a shadow projected itself onto the wall of the tent…


	8. Project at Harxxini

**CHAPTER EIGHT: PROJECT AT HARXXINI**

"Want to be dropped here, Random?" the female voice crackled over the flyer's intercom.

"Thanks, Doctor. I'll do my best to keep the teleportation technology out of the hands of the vampires."

"I know. Take care of yourself."

"It's not me you have to worry about."

The carrier touched down, and Random rolled himself down the ramp.

_I'll have to see my father again. It's been…nearly two years, now..._

He knew, however, that his first stop would be the organization he was on a mission to protect, and at exactly the arranged time he knocked with his claw on the large metal door protecting the facility.

After a camera scanned him and he had identified himself, the door opened by itself, and Random rolled himself through the corridor, noticing that further scans were operating on him, to make sure he was exactly whom he claimed to be. He understood the need for precautions; in an eighteen-year-long career as a Lightning Knight, he'd encountered a surprising number of shapeshifters.

At the end of the passage, another metal door slid open, and he found himself in the main laboratory.

The room was filled with various complicated gadgets, gleaming in silver metal, and several Harxxini bent over them. Despite his years of experience as the resident technological expert of his team, Random couldn't begin to figure out the precise purpose of some of them. There were two large glass bell jars, easily large enough to fit several people, on either side of the room, and Random guessed they were the foundation of the experiment.

_Teleportation tech…we've known the principle of portals and interdimensional travel for years, though the system and our knowledge of it are far from perfect. What's more difficult is to take that principle, and use it for more flexible teleportation. Looks like they've made some progress, but I think it'll be a long time before they can duplicate powers._

One of the Harxxini looked over his shoulder, and seeing Random Virus came over to him. He was a short man with rather nondescript features, but these features were not noticeable to the casual observer: what stood out was the bright silver metal that covered most of his body. He walked on three long metallic tentacles extending from his body, and extended a silver-coated hand to greet Random.

"Good afternoon, young Virus," he said. "So you've come back to protect us?"

"The teleportation technology is…impressive. It'd be a real asset for any of our enemies in battle though. I'm here to make sure nothing happens to it."

The older man sniffed. "We have the finest security tech in any dimension. Normally we wouldn't need you Knights to help…but considering you're one of us, we'll live with that."

"Hilde!" he called to a younger woman, wearing a lab coat over a form apparently unaugmented by technology.

"Yes, master Terminal?"

"Give the Virus the full tour, then show him to his quarters."

She nodded. "Some of the areas don't have access ramps, but I'm sure we'll manage."

"That'll be fine," Random said. It was obvious that she wasn't Harxxini both from her accent and the lack of cybernetics, and he glanced at his old acquaintance.

"She's one of the humans we've hired from the Sixth Dimension," Ambrose Terminal explained. "A third-level gopher."

Hilde smiled. "If you'd follow me, master Virus…"

Random was impressed at the size and scale of the research project, and rolled along gleaming ramps and hallways for what seemed like hours, taking in countless information about the technological resources stored in this place. He stored Hilde's data in his memory banks for future reference.

"We have a security staff of fifteen, not including you," Hilde said, her voice cool and neutral, "and after lockdown they patrol regularly. Our doors leading to sensitive areas open either from the inside, or at a command from the three project heads, Terminal, Ether, and Shock. Do you know them?"

"I've met them all before," Random said, "although I'm not on close terms with Masters Ether and Shock."

"They're brilliant scientists," Hilde said. "I did my thesis on their chemical biomodification project." Her expression had changed to one of enthusiasm. "It's an incredible privilege to be working under them…"

"Where did you study?" Random asked.

"Londres University," she said. "I know I can't begin to match up to Harxxini standards, but it's good to simply be here." She looked embarrassed for a moment. "Getting back to security, we have at least one camera in every corridor, full three-dimensional tracking, and scan the tapes regularly for unrecognised visitors. We have complete bodymaps of all our staff, and use retinal, fingerprint, and DNA scans. It's as secure as we can get it."

"It sounds like it. I'll need schematics of the camera layouts, though, and the patrol schedules. Lists of every staff member would be useful, so I can run security checks using the Lightning Knight database."

"Of course," Hilde said. "This is our main security centre— " she ushered him into a large room, with bare steel walls, one giant computer on the wall, and two security men lounging around a table—"and the database here should have everything you need."

"Thank you."

Hilde took a card from the pocket of her lab coat, and handed it to him.

"This should give you access to all the information you need. Tell me if you have any problems."

-

Later, as he sat in his quarters, Random activated the screen on the wall, and dialled a number.

The face of a woman stared back at him, and smiled.

"Settled in all right?" she said. "Looks like you're living in technological luxury."

"This place has more complicated tech than I've ever seen before," Random said. "I don't think I'll have much of a problem helping them with security."

"That's good. Try to get the rest, as your doctor I'll say you need it." Dr Grey smiled. "Your family's here, aren't they?"

"Yes. I'll be going to see them tomorrow," Random said. "I don't know how they'll react to seeing me again. I've…changed a great deal, and done evil." He gestured to the metal half of his body.

"You've always been good on the inside, and that's what counts," Dr Grey said. "And since you've recovered you're as good as ever. Just focus on the positive."

"I'll try," Random said, sounding none too optimistic.

"You're not responsible for your parents' response, any more than you are for what Lord Fear had done to you," Dr Grey said fiercely. "Your parents love you. You'll be fine."

"I hope so," Random said.

Dr Grey yawned. "I'll leave you to it. If you're half as tired as I am, you'll need rest. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

-

Meanwhile, another conversation…

In Headquarters alone, figuring out just how she was going to fix the Flash with the parts she had available, Sparx heard a loud ring, and left her contemplation to pick up the phone.

"Hello?"

She recognised the voice on the other end. "Ace isn't here at the moment, he's on patrol. Sorry."

"Oh. Tell him to call back, then. Actually I have something to say that concerns you."

"Okay, fine. What is it?" Sparx was curious but not concerned; she had once hated the woman she was talking to, but since they'd had to save the world together they'd learned to get along. And Elspeth was still seeing Sparx' best friend, which helped.

"I'm in the First Dimension at present. Working for a Lord Reinhard. Do you know him?"

Sparx gasped. "We've...met. Say what you have to say."

"Princess Amandine? He still has your portrait around, though you've aged quite a bit since then."

"Okay." Sparx was breathing more quickly, but she was surprised at how easily she was taking the knowledge that her secret was out. "Have you told anyone?"

"No." The voice on the other end sounded vaguely insulted. "It's your business."

"Then why are you bothering to bring it up?"

"I was wondering. How much do you earn as a Lightning Knight?"

"Enough. How much do you get paid as a mercenary?"

"Not nearly enough. There is a reward out for you. I could turn you in, we split the money, then get you out again. Leaving out the 'links with the Lightning Knights' thing of course."

"I...don't know. You didn't tell Ace, did you?"

"As I said. Your business. And I thought you might have already told him."

"I...don't want to go back to my old life."

"Fair enough."

"Look, I'll...I'll think about it. And tell anyone and I'll kill you."

"You've tried to kill me countless times, and I still live. Empty threats."

"Promise me..."

The voice on the other end sounded amused. "Agreed. Don't think you're the only one with a past, Sparx."

"Okay. Hey, Princess beats Lady." Sparx brightened.

"And Dark Elf beats human." She still sounded amused.

"I've...gotta go. See you."

"It's quite likely."

The phone clicked off.

**A/N: **YES, all feedback is appreciated. Please review. Thank you **Hyperpsychomaniac!**


	9. Meetings

**CHAPTER NINE: MEETINGS**

Random scrolled down the list of names and faces once again, just to make sure he didn'trecognise any of them, before starting to feed them into the Lightning Knight database.

Hilde stood beside him, watching.

"This is really all I can do for now," Random said. "It shouldn't take more than twelve hours for the check to complete. Have you assigned me a security patrol?"

"Not yet, but that should be easy." Hilde pulled out a device resembling a complicated electronic calculator from her coat, and punched a few buttons on it. "You want to get in on the ground level, so to speak?"

"I'll be more useful if I actually have a patrol."

"Understood." A printout spooled from the device, and Hilde handed it to him.

"You haven't given me anything until tomorrow night."

"I assumed you'd need the day to settle in; as you said, there's nothing here you can do for the time being. You have family here, correct?"

"How did you know?" Random felt a familiar angry paranoia sweep through him, and struggled to contain it, clenching his fist and claw.

"You're from around here. I just guessed. I meant no offence." Hilde looked embarrassed, a slight pink tinge making its way across her face, and Random forced himself to calm down.

"None taken. It's just…" _I haven't seen them for two years, and the last time wasn't pleasant, and they've never replied to any of my letters, and I shouldn't get angry at this woman for bringing it up…_

Hilde nodded sympathetically. "I won't pry," she said. "Do you need anything else, master Virus?"

"No, thank you. You've been…very helpful." He started to wheel himself out of the door. "I should be back this evening, well before lockdown." _I nearly let anger get the better of me a few seconds ago. She's not an enemy._ Random turned, and tried his best to smile at her. "Call me Random," he said, before disappearing out the door.

-

Master Remus—a man Ceres knew distantly, partly from stories told around the campfires—strolled in casually, smiling at her as reassuringly as he could.

Ceres made the traditional signs of obeisance and greetings, and started to busy herself with getting him refreshment, before Remus stopped her with a raised hand.

"It's all right," he said. "I won't be here for long."

He noticed her painful thinness, and the drained look in her face. He'd seen that before, in his travels through the dimensions.

"Tell me," he said gently, "has your husband been talking to…strange people?"

"No," she replied. "He used to trade with people from other dimensions, I know, just to stay alive, but we keep to our own people these days, as we should."

Remus nodded. "You are ill," he said gently. "You should rest."

"There is a revolution. Nobody can rest." She was quoting her husband, he knew. Can I get her to talk? I fear it's a wasted cause…

"And your husband? What does he do to you?"

_She's far too thin, and pale, and almost _controlled_…I hope I am not right._

"That is not your concern, master Remus," she said, her tone reasonably polite. "I think you should go." Her face would have been solid stone if not for the slight tremble of expression.

"If you want, I'll go," Remus said gently, "but if you ever need me I will be there."

"I thank you for your kind offer," she said, stiffly and formally, and made the traditional gestures of farewell. Remus interrupted her in the middle of them, swiftly knocking her out. Before he left the tent, he carefully placed her on the sleeping roll, briefly rolling back her collar, just to check.

_She will wake knowing nothing, I think, but for me, my worst fears may be confirmed_, Remus thought.

-

Random Virus stopped and shook his head at the sight of steps outside the front door of his old home; they never used to be there. He turned and made his way up the narrow passageway that led to the back yard, opening the gate before he reached it and smiling for a moment when he saw the old clothesline that he had swung off as a child. He turned for the back door, and had to stop himself from banging it with his claw. It was his mother who answered his knock, and Random was glad; he would at least make it through the door.

"Hello, Mother." He smiled down at the small woman who looked up from her book in shock at his voice.

Celina stared at her son for a moment, before dropping the book and embracing him. "My Randy, my baby!"

Random lifted her easily with his one hand, and she hugged him tightly.

"Is father home?" Random set her back on the floor.

"Yes, baby, but . . ." she sighed at the look on her son's face, and turned to the lounge room. "Euphrates, dearest."

"Whatever they're selling, we aren't buying!" Random heard his father's voice, and the knots began forming in his stomach.

"Hello, Sir." He rolled past his mother and stopped in the door frame, tilting his head to the side to avoid hitting it.

The old man sitting in the tattered armchair, which contrasted sharply with the rest of the tasteful furniture in the room, stood up slowly, settling glasses on his nose. He looked Random up and down for a long while.

"Randy," he nodded. "You've . . . grown."

Random self-consciously moved his claw, trying to hide it behind himself.

"Yes, sir." He felt his mother take hold of his bad arm and stand beside him.

"Come away, Celina. It could malfunction."

Random tried not to let the hurt show on his face as his mother squeezed his arm, before standing next to her husband.

"Did you get my letters, father?"

"I did," said Celina, avoiding her husband's gaze. "I read them to him."

"Why didn't you reply?"

"I had nothing to say," replied Euphrates sharply.

"His eyes aren't what they used to be," began Celina. "The doctor says he'll be—"

"That's enough, Celina. Go make yourself busy in the kitchen." Euphrates watched her leave, and then turned back to his son. "I thought I told you not to come back and upset her like this!"

"I have a right to see my parents before I die!" Random looked down at his father, now old and frail, not the tall, confident man he had grown up idolising. But still as proud.

"I told you before; you are no longer my son! You are dead to me!"

The words stung twice as much the second time around. "Why? What did I do?"

"Look at yourself! You aren't fit for human contact! They should've locked you away when they had the chance! I wouldn't have stopped them then, and I wouldn't stop them now." Euphrates sat back down. "Now go, and don't waste paper by writing." He picked up a newspaper from the floor.

Random rolled through the house to the front door, which he punched off its hinges to form a ramp down the stairs. He was halfway up the street when he heard his mother calling him. He stopped when she called a second time.

"Randy, wait!" She ran towards him. "Baby please, he doesn't mean it, not really."

He turned to face her, and she saw the tears on his cheeks.

"Darling, don't cry," she said, beginning to do so herself. "Your father loves you so very much, he just doesn't know it." She reached up and wiped the tears from his cheek, and then the metal part of his face. "Look at my big strong boy." She stood back and looked him up and down, her eyes filling with pride. "I know you're a wonderful Lightning Knight, I've kept a scrapbook of newspaper clippings about you and your friends."

Random smiled down at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I don't think you'll see me again, mother. Tell father goodbye." He reached down and hugged her, before turning and rolling away.

"I love you, Randy."

"I love you too, mother."

-

Remus looked at the nondescript young man, and sighed.

There weren't any obvious errors in his garb, and the male appeared to have a slight stutter preventing him from saying much, but Master Remus was sure this was an imposter.

He stepped up next to the young male, and whispered a few phrases in the ancient formal language of the Atmos, reserved for ceremonial occasions. "Isn't it true that the sun is colder than ice and that you're looking for something you shouldn't be?"

The young man acted as though he had not heard, and started to walk away.

"Stop," Remus called, and the young male paused. He knew that Remus' garb marked him as one of fairly high status among the Atmos despite the man's age, and obeyed him.

"You are not one of us," Remus spoke in quick Atmos.

The stranger appeared to understand, and replied in the same language. "What do you mean, respected father? I do not know you."

Remus decided he'd deal with the situation in his own way. _He is likely working against Phoebus Ares…I do not know if his masters have better intentions, but he will have information._

"You have two choices. Follow me to the Zarata Valley, not far from here, where we will be undisturbed, or I will expose you to this gathering."

The stranger shrugged. "Respected father, I would prefer to take the former alternative rather than face your public displeasure."

"Then watch where I go, and follow me after some time has passed."

The young man nodded, and made the formal gestures of obeisance towards one of higher status.

-

Master Remus stood in the middle of the Zarata Valley, waiting for the spy to turn up.

He was surprised when the explosion hit him, and leaped as high as he could to avoid the blast, turning to find the attacker.

Using the Atmos control over airwaves, he swept himself towards his opponent, and lashed out with his staff.

The young male didn't appear to have expected an old man to have such abilities, reacting slowly to the attack.

"Who are you?" Remus asked, landing another blow with his staff.

The stranger's form changed, and Remus noticed a green face under the hood. He'd seen a few of those people before—Dark Elves, Sixth Dimension, most of them able and willing to kill with blades or sorcery—and decided that this was a little more than he'd expected. Still, he was a master of the fight, and remained confident.

The elf materialised a sphere in his hand—_her_ hand, Remus noticed suddenly—and threw it at him. He dodged quickly—faster than a man as old as he should be moving, Remus hoped she noticed—and responded with a few swipes of his staff. It was her turn to avoid him, and she did so with agility.

"You're one of Reinhard's spies, am I correct?" he challenged her.

"Precisely, which is why I have to kill you." She threw another sphere, and Master Remus blocked it with his staff. I do not think she knows that Reinhard wants to imprison me. Good.

"And do you have any experience with the…bloodwalkers, spy?"

She didn't seem to know the word. "I don't know. I do know that your leader has a very pretty piece of jewellery though. Mind if I steal it?"

"Bloodwalkers." He didn't know the word for it in the common tongue of the dimensions. "The night prowlers. The sharp-toothed. The bleeding dead."

"Vampires," she said. "Perhaps."

"You saw the woman Ceres?" She dodged another blow from his staff as he spoke.

"Briefly. I see your point. What's your agenda in this?" He'd thought he'd backed her up against the valley's side, but she disappeared and reappeared behind him.

"There is a right way to destroy the shackles of a tyrannical human Lord, and there is a wrong way. Phoebus Ares and his followers will encourage mass bloodshed. I believe there are other ways to peace."

"Wars are always brutal, regardless." She drew a dagger, flashing in the moonlight, to hold back the blows from his staff.

"You're paid for death."

"What soldier isn't?" She dodged again, gracefully and surely, the kind of movements Remus knew he'd been capable of in his own youth.

"Your style of fighting is familiar," she said, easily countering his moves. "Tell me, do you know a Sparx?"

Remus was shocked, and almost botched an attack. "How do you know her?"

"We're…old enemies," she said. "Small world."

"My daughter always had excellent taste in foes." Whatever else this woman was, she was at least competent, Remus knew.

"You're not her father," the woman said, stating it as a fact.

_How much does she know?_ he wondered. It was the second time she'd managed to shock him. She jumped in a neat spin kick—_young and strong, he thought, not that much older than my daughter_—and Remus felt his staff flying out of his hands. He took a step backwards.

She gestured with her dagger. "We might have some aims in common, and for…personal reasons… I don't think killing you would be a good idea. Consider a jewel heist?"

**A/N: **Thank you to **Eclair: A Psychotic Confectionary**, **Hyperpsychomaniac**, and **Moondream1016 **for your wonderful feedback.


	10. Revolutions

**CHAPTER TEN: REVOLUTIONS**

They'd got in quite easily; walked into the hidden camp in the Horn Plain, spotted Ares—giving another speech, they'd seen, and calmly decapitating a man accused of betrayal, laughing at the bloodshed—and waited until they thought he was alone.

He'd been with Ceres, she frightened and cringing, paler than ever, and they'd had to neutralize her too.

Elspeth calmly bent down, and ripped the jewel from the unconscious Phoebus' outfit. She'd handled more than her fair share of magical artefacts as both a Dark Elf and a practicing mercenary, but she felt uncomfortable about this one, and quickly made it disappear inside a crystal ball.

"You know I'll have to give this to Lukas, and Reinhard through him," she said. "It's my job."

"Our leader was…insane from that gem," Remus said. "This may not be the right decision, but it is the best alternative I possess. And I would count causing Lord Reinhard's insanity as a victory."

"I'll go now," she said. "You might want to evacuate the non-fighters."

She disappeared, and Remus started gathering together the old, the women, and the children, telling them to leave the camp while they still could.

-

"Commander, I have news," the mercenary said. She'd just teleported in, and claimed she had an urgent message for him.

"What is it?" It was the middle of the night, and Lukas wasn't too happy about being awakened, particularly since Maxine had disappeared and he wasn't too sure he wanted to find out where to.

"The Atmos camp is hidden near Horn Plain, next to the waterhole. It's under a cloak of illusion, a concerted effort of the Atmos mages…"

"Something _you'd_ have no trouble seeing through, I suppose," Lukas said dryly.

"They planned a covert attack for tomorrow, but I believe their plans will shortly change."

The mercenary materialised something from inside a crystal ball, and gave it to him.

Lukas turned the gem over in his hands, and felt something unfamiliar begin to rush through him. _A red desire for blood and battle…_

"That's what's been giving their leader strength," the mercenary continued. Lukas only half-listened. "I believe it is vampiric in origin. It should be easy to defeat them now, though."

Lukas nodded, half in a daze. "You've done well, mercenary," he said. "I don't think I'll need you as a spy any more. I'll order…an immediate attack. A surprise attack. That should do it." He turned rapidly on his heel, and left the mercenary standing there.

She shivered suddenly, though the temperature was quite warm.

_I did the only thing I could have considering the job I accepted,_ she told herself. _The fortunes of war are never pleasant…_

-.

Commander Lukas felt a strange power circulating through his blood as he ordered the troops to mobilize, marching in deadly patterns towards the hidden Atmos camp.

The scouts he'd sent ahead reported that the mercenary had been telling the truth, the Atmos unprepared and in relative disarray and Lukas gave the order to attack as soon as he could.

The battle was bloody, and painful, and in the end the Atmos rebels fell, their leader, half-mad and wildly searching for something unknown, easily killed by one footsoldier. Lukas watched, and smiled at the death, a red haze filling his vision.

-

"Sir! The camp is now in our control. While it appears the women and children were previously evacuated, we have over a hundred prisoners who have surrendered. Your orders?"

"Kill them. Kill them all," Lukas said, and felt the red haze consume him. _Blood and power and strength…_

-

Lukas stood, watching his soldiers make their way across the desert plains, finishing off the last of the rebellion.

"Commander, may I take that?" hie second-in-command, a bright young man known as Markos, asked, gesturing to the gem he held.

"No!" Lukas reacted instinctively, clutching it to himself.

"I'll have a special courier deliver it to Lord Reinhard in a sealed box," Markos said. "You never know with these magical artefacts, sir. My mother died from handling a cursed necklace…"

Lukas paused.

_There has been bloodshed and there must be more! Mine to kill, mine to spill crimson lifeblood across the land, strengthening all of us…_

_I am the Commander. I serve Lord Reinhard. It is my responsibility to…hand it over._

He reluctantly passed the gem into his second's gauntleted hands. "See that it is kept in a sealed box, and that it gets to Lord Reinhard safely," he told Markos. "I don't want to hear of any mistakes."

Markos saluted. "Sir."

Lukas saw the young man call a courier, and watched as the gem was sealed tightly before it was taken away.

He felt suddenly lighter, as though a load had been removed from his body and mind.

Another young officer approached him.

"Sir…should we incinerate the bodies? In this heat they're decaying quickly…"

_I ordered the entire camp massacred,_ he remembered.

"Yes. Do what you can to dispose of them," he said, and walked off.

-

Inside his tent, Maxine was waiting for him.

"What were you doing?" he asked.

"I was…hungry," she said, smiling with surprisingly sharp teeth and twining herself around him. "I hear you've just won."

"A mercenary found…what was causing the rebels' strength. We were able to stage a surprise attack."

"And you killed them all," she said, staring at him with her brilliant blue eyes. He felt he couldn't look away from her, that he was being drawn into some sort of trap, a helpless animal led to the slaughter.

"Yes."

"Good," she said, moving in still closer. "Mass bloodshed is quite an…aphrodisiac. And the Blood Crystal?"

Her eyes were brighter than he'd ever seen them, luminous pools of shimmering crystal drawing him in.

"The gem? I sent it on to Lord Reinhard," he said. He couldn't have lied to her if he'd wanted to. "He has sorcerers who can deal with that sort of thing…"

Lukas wasn't prepared for the sudden change in her expression.

"Where is it now?" she asked, desperation edging her voice, turning up the force of her stare still more.

"It's in Lord Reinhard's hands by now."

"And the mercenary who located it?"

"She's still around here, I think…I didn't order her to take part in the attack, I remember."

"Who was she?"

"Illusion. The elf."

"Ah. You've told me all I need to know. You'll pay her off now, and send her away from here. Understand?"

"Yes. I'll do so immediately."

"And you'll tell nobody about the Blood Crystal or this conversation. Am I correct?"

He nodded, unable to do anything else in her hypnotic glare.

She smiled, revealing pointed incisors—had his mind been clear, he would have wondered about that—and disappeared from the tent.

It took Commander Lukas a few minutes to wake himself from the trance, and he shook his head dazedly before calling an orderly to summon the mercenary.

It didn't take her long to appear in a flash of light and salute.

"Commander?"

"You've finished your job here, mercenary," Lukas said. "I want you out of here now."

"And the reason why?"

He pulled a bag of money from his desk and threw it to her.

"Our business here is over," he said. "I don't want you around here. This is more money than the original agreement," he said. "Take it and go, and don't gossip."

"I never do." She disappeared, looking slightly miffed at the peremptory dismissal.

Lukas wiped a hand across his brow, and realised he was sweating.

He shook his head, half-dazed, and walked out of the tent to try and carry on with his job.

-

Elspeth walked thoughtfully along the narrow alley in Reinhard's city, the place seemingly deserted. She wondered why she'd been so quickly gotten rid of. _Some…influence of the artefact, perhaps? No logical reason for that. I suppose I should be relieved that I got paid…more than I'd expected, and certainly for less work._

She was interrupted by a creature melting from thin air behind her, and turned, too slowly.

The vampire, dark-faced and with breath smelling like rotting meat, grabbed her by the neck, and started an energy drain—_less messy than blood_, she knew, struggling to free herself, her mind sending random memories to her—_not a common ability for vampires…who is this creature?_

Elspeth reached her right hand to her boot, contorting her arm to reach that extra distance, and grabbed the dagger she usually kept there. She jammed the blade into the face of her assailant, and he let her go, distracted. There was blood running down his face, but he didn't seem fazed by it, and the wounds healed quickly. She materialised a crystal ball in her right hand—better finish this quickly—and threw. A large cloud of smoke rose up around the vampire, but she didn't want to give him any more chances, and followed up that explosion with two more.

The vampire was lying on the ground, and she bent over him and pressed the dagger to his throat.

"Who sent you?" she said. She'd ended up with more than her fair share of vampiric enemies over the years, especially after the events of the previous year.

He didn't reply, and she twisted the knife to show she meant business.

"They call me the Drainer," he said. He smiled—he was gap-toothed, she noticed, with a mouth like the interior of a grave—and flicked a wrist in a sudden movement.

Elspeth lifted a hand to shield her face as his body appeared to explode, in a shower of darkness and mud. She cursed fluently in elvish.

_He had a teleport. Probably on a timer. I'm a fool._

She thought she saw a few of the alley's denizens staring curiously at her, and continued on her way as quickly as possible.

-

It had been a long day—no less than sixteen reports of vampiric attacks, spreading all over Londres—and Sparx, still slightly bloodstained, was relieved as she finally stumbled into her quarters. She looked around the small room assigned to her by Lightning Knight Headquarters. She had to admit it was adequate, and clean, but as she lay down on the hard bed she felt an inkling of regret for the soft featherbeds and life of luxury she'd been accustomed to as a royal. She'd never had to worry about money then; nearly everything she'd wanted had been there almost before she'd asked for it. As a Lightning Knight, she'd had to learn how to balance a budget, something which she still found difficult. The Lightning Knights were officially entitled to accommodation, energy supplies, and weaponry, but aside from that they didn't get paid much.

_Mercenary probably does pay better,_ Sparx thought. _Of course, I'm happy here, with my friends…_

The Lightning Flash buzzed softly in a corner, and Sparx remembered that the extra parts she'd put in a claim form for hadn't come in yet.

_It'd be nice to have something saved up, to buy stuff before the bureaucracy at Headquarters get around to it. And nice to not have to wait from payday to payday, I know Random finds it irritating sometimes too, Ace is lucky he's got a rich family…_

_My father's very rich, and I ran away so he didn't have to give me a dowry or anything, and I know Lord Reinhard can more than afford the reward. And seeing Reinhard's face when I run away again would be fun._

She thought about Lady Illusion's proposal again.

I could turn you in, we split the money, and then you run away again.

_Yes. That'd work, and it wouldn't be wrong exactly, just a little…shady. And hey, it'd be fun. I go in, I get out, with a large bank balance included. Easy._

Sparx reached for her phone.

"Um, Lady? Are you there? It's Sparx here, I've been thinking about your idea. I'll agree, as long as we split it with Ace and Random…"

**A/N:** Feedback? Please. Thanks, **Hyperpsychomaniac**!


	11. Night Events

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: NIGHT EVENTS**

Random scrolled through the files, checking for any irregularities. It was late at night; since he'd come home from the visit with his parents, he hadn't done anything other than work desperately, wanting to forget his father's words.

Hilde watched him finish off the last of the background checks.

"There's nothing on Lightning Knight records or any Harxxini database for anyone working here," Random said. "Looks like everyone's clean. A drunk driving conviction, and two incidences of public brawling for the security men, but it all checks out. I don't think we have any serious threats."

Hilde smiled. "I hoped so."

"There are only sixty people working here, right? Fifteen in security, seventeen scientists, and eighteen gofers?"

"Sixty-one, actually," Hilde said.

Random looked confused. "I've only got sixty up on here. What did I miss?"

Hilde stepped up to the computer, and pulled up another screen. "I don't think…you can check the data I gave you against this list of employees if you want…"

Random looked at it, and realized what was missing.

"You didn't give me your details," he said.

Hilde looked startled and embarrassed, and Random saw the pink flush begin to spread itself across her face. "I apologise," she said. "I was put in charge of giving you everyone's personal details…I'd forgotten mine."

She struck a few more keys, and pulled up her personal information on the screen. "I hope it all checks out," she said, smiling weakly. "I can't tell you how sorry I am…"

"It's all right," Random said. "I'll check now…"

He looked through her files while in the background he ran a check through the Knights' database. He noticed that she was several years older than he'd expected, and that she'd graduated from Londres University with top grades, before working for NightStar Industries—he raised an eyebrow; the company was known for rather dodgy business practices besides its large profits and prestige; he'd worked there once, briefly, on orders from the Knights to infiltrate it although he hadn't found much, called away soon after starting on another job—for several years, before coming to Harxxini and picking up a few jobs here and there, gradually working her way up to her current position.

"I worked at NightStar industries for a while," he said, as in the background the computer completed the check on Hilde Wagner. "What was your experience?"

"It was a good experience, on the whole," she said. "They like to say their facilities are the best in the Sixth Dimension, and I was thrilled they'd hired me just after I'd finished my degree. Eventually, though, I realized that the real action was here—" she smiled—"and I quit my job to try to get somewhere with the Harxxini. More difficult and it pays less so far, but I love the work."

"You said you did your thesis on biochemical engineering…?"

"I studied…advanced humans," she said, "how they're able to survive under a variety of radically different conditions. I'm hoping to be assigned to Master Shock's group, they're working on how the body should be able to survive mass displacement. They've made some impressive breakthroughs with the inherent stress and the hemoglobin effect…" Hilde shook her head, deliberately dampening the enthusiasm in her voice. "I shouldn't ramble on about myself. Sorry."

"It's fine," Random said. "You've noticed most of us Harxxini have a superiority complex, right?"

"_Yes_," Hilde said emphatically. "Not that they can't back it up, but…"

Random smiled at her. "I know. Look, I realize this sounds clichéd, but some of my best friends are human. More or less," he added. "Anyway, I understand."

The computer beeped, and Random glanced at it. "Yes, you're clean according to our records. Thanks, Hilde."

"No problem…Random." Hilde grinned, looking almost relieved.

"Anything else I need to do?" asked Random. He suddenly realized that he was quite tired, and that he felt calmer about the earlier conversation with his parents.

"I can't think of anything. You look exhausted."

"I'll get some sleep then." Random turned to wheel himself out. "You look the opposite."

Hilde shrugged. "I'm a night person….and I have a patrol to organize. 'Night."

"'Night," Random replied, and wheeled himself to rest.

- -

They had come in the night; breaking into her small room on-campus while she was slept and snatching her from her bed. She had fought, she always fought, but they outdid her in number and strength. She lashed out with her foot and hit the panic button as they pulled her towards the window, but by the time her fellow Knights had been alerted and had kicked down her door, she was gone.

She didn't know how long they had been traveling. The box she was held captive in had no windows, and although the floor was padded, the walls were bare metal. She had given up banging on the walls when she realised that no one was listening, but now she felt her prison jerk to a stop, she began again.

- -

Lord Reinhard stood in the centre of the small room, staring at the wedding dress that had been worn by the tailor's dummy for years, waiting for the bride that it was made for. The girl who had run from his presence and hidden, but soon she would be his. The King had established a small taskforce of Lightning Knights the morning that the Princess' disappearance had become known, and their mission was to find her. Reinhard had never trusted the Knights; they were too bound by notions of honour for his tastes. He preferred instead to hire mercenaries and bounty hunters with good reputations to seek her out, and it was from one of these that he had first received word of her whereabouts. She had become a Lightning Knight, and even then the King's pitiful team could not find her. Reinhard's lip curled at the thought of his betrothed having ever been one of them, but all old habits could be broken over time.

The sound of wheels on gravel drifted through the window, and Reinhard moved to it and gazed at the ground below. A heavy metal carriage rolled towards the entrance, pulled by two mechanical monsters that had been created for the task. Reinhard didn't smile, although he felt a cruel pleasure stir within him. _She has come at last._

_- -_

Commander Lukas stepped down from his seat at the front of the carriage and stood in front of his employer. Only the deep red velvet of his jacket and the ornate black and white patch on his arm set him apart from the thousands of other soldiers.

"We found her, my lord. We took her without incident, and traveled in safety."

Reinhard listened to the younger man, before turning his attention to the carriage. It was rocking, as the captive inside banged on the walls, yelling with a voice full of anger.

He turned to the young maid beside him. "See that she is taken to her room and changed, before she is presented to me."

The girl curtsied respectfully, and Reinhard turned on his heel and marched into the house.


End file.
